Somewhere
by gabriel blessing
Summary: Down at the border between the World and Faerie, it isn't the past that matters. Just like all the other runaways that find their way there, this is exactly what Harry Potter is hoping for.
1. Chapter 1

Fear and loathing at Boardertown.

A Chapter, the first.

I don't own Harry Potter. He's Rawlings. I don't own Bordertown, or any of it's inhabitants. They belong to Will Shetterly and Terri Windling. I hope you like what I do with them though.

The story begins as I tell it, and the point where I begin telling it happens to be on a train. Well, that's as good a spot as any to begin telling it. I suppose, in a chronological sense, my story began some time earlier, but I'm certain that most of you who read this are already aware of the basics.

I'm starting this all wrong. Let's try again, only proper like this time. My name... is Harry Potter. At the moment where I choose to start this narration, I'm riding a train. It is an old looking train, spouting steam, and only a few cars long. Seeing as you all have chosen to read this, I can only assume that you are a little familiar with my story, in the least. I'm sure, due to this supposed familiarity, many of you are thinking, "The Hogwarts Express.".

If that is so than you are wrong. Tough luck that.

The train where I chose to begin this story is known as The Elfland Express. It's the quickest way for one to pass between the World and Bordertown, and at the moment, Bordertown is precisely where I'm heading.

But I've scarcely begun to tell my story and already I find myself off track.

It was while I was sitting at the window seat of the Express that I first saw a wild elf. I had been staring, lackadaisical like, out the window when this event occurred, and it startled me just a bit. Then I smiled slightly. A wild elf like that is a sure sign that we have to be in NeverNever by now. The smile must have been a bit less slight than I had thought it was, because the bird sitting in front of me spoke up at it.

"First time to Bordertown?"

I take a glance at the lady sharing my window across from me. It's tough to say precisely what stood out the most about her. It could have been the satchel of books on the chair next to her. It could have been the hair died brightly red. It could have been the knowing grin that matched my own before I stopped. It could have been the fact that she had no arms.

I think it was the books myself, but then Hermione had rubbed off on me…

I break off my train of thoughts and answered her.

"Aye. That a big deal?"

I take a moment to try and imagine how I look to her. A scruffy looking lad of mid-teenage years. I had taken pains to make sure that none who knew me would recognize me. I had thought at first that the best thing to do would be nondescript. But from what I had heard about Bordertown, nondescript would just stick out more. So I had settled on 'so outrageous the eye slides away in vain attempt to preserve itself'. My hair uniformly to just below shoulder level, colored an obvious and eye drawing blonde, falling in a lank semi-dreaded fashion around my head, covering much of my face. I couldn't bring myself to change my eye color, the green I had inherited from my mother, so viridian orbs still peered out from behind my shaggy curtain. My clothes were muggle, but the kind of muggle that would have driven my dear ol' Aunt Petunia into an foaming seizure of self righteous indignation. Beaten and ragged trainers topped by a pair of blue jeans so faded, torn, and patched as to leave an observer wondering just how much of the original fabric still remains. My shirt was a faded grey, in better shape than my jeans, and across my shoulder was a strap of good canvas attached to a satchel that sat half on my lap and half beside me, scrunched in the space at my side I had gained from leaning on the window. I could only hope I came across as just another hopeless (hopeful?) runaway to the border.

"Yes, actually it is," the woman across from me smiled. "The nature types rarely come by the train. They dislike technology."

"I hear they don't be liking iron or something," I acknowledge with a glance back out the window. The view passing is very pretty. Old trees, wide for their kind, dotted the land around the tracks. Roses bloomed wild and red, and ravens flew free and dark. I closed my eyes briefly, and for a moment I let myself truly feel the magic that surrounded NeverNever. It was rich and wild, and my own magic purred quietly within me. It made me feel warm.

"Not the iron. The technology," the armless lady said. "Though considering how the magic around here acts, technology can get a little bit whimsical."

"I'd heard about that," I admitted, as I turned fully away from the window to the woman across from me. I adjusted my pack slightly so that it rested more fully in my lap as I did so. "It has something to do with the return of Faerie, I hear it said." Back when Bordertown was still a city of the World, back before Faerie had returned. When the Border came back into being, the magic that it held swallowed the city up. Most everyone had fled at that. But time passes and the indomitable human spirit (or is curiosity? Nihilism?) returned, and mankind had returned to the city eventually. It's a place where elves and humans mix freely, though perhaps not flawlessly, now a days.

She grins and lifts her beaded moccasins to point at my arm. I glance at my watch, a cheap little thing I had picked up for convenience sake a month or two back. The digital face was blank for a second, and then while I watched all the numbers that should be telling me the hour and minute began cycling backwards at various paces. The date displayed was the thirteenth month, day number thirty eight. Than it went blank again. I snorted at it quietly, before turning my attention away.

"So if you've heard that than you must wear the watch because you like the armband, right?"

"Got it in one," I smile slightly in return. The watch on my left hand had just been a thing to tell the time. Now it can just be an ornament. They both work the same to me. I glance out the window again, and than back to the armless bird in front of me. I reach my hand out, as though to shake hands, but I aim it at her feet. "I'm B.S.P." I say as way of introduction.

She lifts her leg up with a delighted chuckle, perhaps at the ease with which I dealt with her handicap, and places it in my hand, and we shake limbs briefly. "I'm Mickey. Glad to meet you."

I quietly chuckle in return, before glancing out the window again, almost reflectively. I keep looking for the Border. I knew that most people can't see it. I can't honestly say that I was really expecting to see it. But I can freely admit that I hoped to see it. The tracks had come along parallel to the Mad River. It had a proper name once, but ever since the return of Faerie it had become something different. The waters were red all through the Borderlands, until it finally reached the World again. Something about the way it came out of Faerie had changed it, for better or worse. The magic made it dangerous to drink. Well, maybe not dangerous. Addictive. The cheapest, most addictive, and most intoxicating drug in the world. For humans at least. Flowing free and easy through Bordertown and NeverNever. I break my thoughts away and turn back to Mickey.

She had seen my look, and the direction it was turned to. "Looking for the Border? Not many can see it. Humans anyway. Most humans can't see it, and none can cross it. The ones who can see it say it's beautiful."

"Great shimmering opalescent haze, from which all the stars save the morning one reflect their effervescent light in a grand collusion of universal harmony?" I ask while looking back out the window briefly before turning back to her with a perfectly bland expression on my face. She lowers her head and gives me an amused look. "Nope. Can't see it either." She snorts and I smile back at her.

"B.S.P was it?" Mickey asks, still chuckling at my shameless lie. "Dare I ask what it stands for?"

"Ask away," I gesture grandly. "If you get it right you get a prize."

"Better Start Praying?" she hazards. We grin at each other briefly and I shake my head 'no'. "Well, it's better than some." I cock an eyebrow at her, and she continues. "A lot of people come to Bordertown, looking for new starts. Your name is your first impression, and some people choose names that just don't give a good one. I met one kid who was dead set on calling himself 'Ron Starbuck'. Lasted a week before he turned around and headed right back to wherever it was he came from." I briefly sink into memories at the mention of the name 'Ron', but quickly shake it off. "Another tried to call herself Jinian L'Etoile. Everyone called her Jiggle Le Toilet. She lasted about as long." Mickey stopped here and smiled at me while I chuckled a bit at the image. "So. Dare I ask? Running from or to?"

I looked at her, quicker than I intended to, and she smiled slightly. I realized that I may have changed enough so that people who knew me wouldn't any more, but that doesn't change the fact that those who have known people like me wouldn't have recognize the signs. She had nailed me dead on in one aspect at least. I was running.

I lean back in my chair for a second, feeling pensive, before responding. "You make it sound like there be a different between the two."

"There is, though," she responds. Her voice is kind, and I meet her eyes briefly. The good intentions I find there are only reinforced by the brief flash of legilmancy I touch her with.

"Only to some." I smile at her, softening my harsh response. She bows out of the topic gracefully.

"Got place waiting, or a job, or friends?" I shrug. She continues "It can be tough…"

I shrug, a small smile on my face, as she trails off. "I'm sure that can be true, but you needn't be worrying your pretty young head about it." She gives me a smile and a glance that reads 'don't smooth talk me, I'm not that gullible' and I realize almost reflectively that she probably had a decade on me year wise. I continue on anyway. "I've been in tough spots before. I can handle myself if it comes to it again."

Mickey gives me a softly searching look at that. I'm not sure what she found, but she looks like the kind that has been around the block a fair bit. I don't know if she drops the subject because she's to use to dealing with touchy runaway kids, or if she can really see that yes, I have been in tough spots before. You don't get much tougher than some of the spots I've been in…

I pull myself out of that train of thoughts and look at her satchel. I change the subject. "So if you're a Bordertowner," I wonder quickly if that's a real word, "what is it that brought you on this brief, yet seemingly fruitful trip to the humble World?"

Mickey accepts the obvious change of topic with good grace, following my gaze to her satchel, before answering. "I'm a dealer. Books, rare and used. We're down on Mock Avenue, a few blocks down from Ho."

"Really?" I ask, thinking back again to Hermione. Then to Ron. The weight of the bracelet on my right hand and the necklace resting on my chest both felt heavy for a second, but I dragged myself back to the present with the ease of long practice. "What are you called?"

"Elsewhere," Mickey grins easily. "Look us up when you get settled."

"I just might…" I begin with a nod when behind me the ticket taker announces the next stop to be Bordertown. I hunch over a bit at how close the voice had been. Uh oh.

"Something wrong?" Mickey asks, than realized the situation when the taker stepped from behind to abreast.

"I don't remember collecting your ticket," the taker, female in blue with big reflective glasses, says to me. I give my best innocent look to her, but she doesn't seem to fall for it.

"Really? Maybe one of you coworkers got it?" I hazard and I sound so innocent that butter wouldn't melt in my mouth. My eyes are a study, wide and artfully confused, and my lips hover on the verge of pouting.

"Only coworkers I got are driving this heap," she tells me, not buying it for a second. "Care to show me a seat check?"

I pat myself down, knowing damn well I haven't got a ticket. I didn't want to risk the ticket booth finding out my name or remembering me at all. I had spent most of the ride in the washroom at the back of the train. I had only come out because I wanted my first view of Bordertown to be a little more memorable than the tracks under the toilet when I flush.

"Oh dear," I proclaim, "I can't find it! What if somebody stole it?" I see my reflection in her glasses as she gives me a 'do you really expect me to believe that, because I know I'm not that dumb' look. My expression is so comical that I give up all pretense with a laugh. "Alright, you got me."

"You have enough to buy a ticket on you?" she asks.

"Sorry, gorgeous," I return easily. "If I be havin' enough in the first place, I needn't be sneakin' in the first place." I give a shrug as I lounge back in my stolen chair, seemingly completely at ease. The taker's eyebrow raises above her glasses at 'gorgeous' and turns her eyes to an amused Mickey.

"Sweet talker, isn't he?" she says to the armless woman. Mickey nods, her amusement plain.

"I had noticed it myself. We only have a half an hour left, maybe you could…" Mickey trailed off.

"I don't know," the conductor frowns. "Policy is clear…"

I decide to milk the situation. Truthfully, it doesn't matter to me what they try to do. If they let me finished the ride with a warning, I can deal with that. If they try to lock me up afterwards, I can escape,. If they try to throw me out, I can cushion my landing and finish the walk easily. But now might be a good time to have a little fun.

"Oh please, Madam," I get out of my chair and fall to one knee in front of her, arms clasped in front of me as I groveled, shamelessly. "Surely someone as wonderful and talented as yourself can be sparing some generosity to this poor wretched boy in front of you. Surely someone as blessed with grace and talent, whose beauty shines through like a light to the rest of us poor mortals, can be sparing just the tiniest of- and you're not buying it at all, eh?" I finish in a completely different tone of voice while looking up calmly. The silver glasses shake back and forth, though the smile struggling not to show on the mouth below lessened the effect. Mickey had her head turned into her shoulder as she shook slightly with repressed mirth.

Sighing I stood up and brushed myself off while adjusting the strap of my satchel on my shoulder. "Well, rules be rules," I allow. "This be the point where you be tossing me from the train?" The conductor nodded, though she did look apologetic. "Wells, well. I needed a smoke anyway." I turn to Mickey with a nod that she returns. "Elsewhere, was it? Maybe I'll drop by."

"Please do," Mickey smiled at me.

I turned back to the conductor. She gestured ahead of her towards the back. "Let's be getting myself tossed than, shall we?"

'Well,' I thought to myself as we headed to the back. 'I'm here. Let's see how Bordertown can handle Harry Potter."

And with this I end my first publishing on Fan fiction net. I hope to be well received here. Feel free to review.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter the Second.

Long step, short fall.

Disclaimer. See the Chapter the First.

I lay where I fell. Well, I lay where I rolled to after I fell anyway. I think the conductor chick was pretty amused, though too professional to show it, when I bid her a, "cheery day," right before I jumped off the back of the train. Being thrown of a moving train sounds a great bit more dramatic than it actually was. I took two steps to build momentum, aimed away from the tracks and towards the grass, jumped, applied a cushioning charm mid-air, rolled light-as-you-please, and came to rest.

So, anyway, continuing. I lay where I fell. All my limbs seem to be working alright, my satchel is undamaged, and the sky is the kind of brilliant blue that you really can't take your eyes off of. I decide to have that cigarette I had been talking about earlier.

"Thank you kindly," I call after the train, long gone in the time it took me to find and light my fag, while waving the hand carrying it lightly above me. "It's a pleasure to be taking a part in what I'm sure is a fine and longstanding tradition for new additions to your delightful little town on the border."

"You're welcome," a voice calls back. I drop my cigarette onto my chest in surprise. Swearing, I get it back in my hands quickly. "It's a fine thing to be welcoming you here, as a new addition."

"Thanks," I say. Still laying down I angle my head so I can see the source of the voice.

"Enjoying the view?" a second one asks as I finally track them down. Underneath a tree the two of them sat. They wore dark dusty leather, and sat on dark dustier bikes. Their hair was black and spiky, and their skin was just a few shades paler. The shade from the oak they rested under blurred just about all distinctions beyond that, but I get the distinct impression that the second voice was female. I also realize that the two of them are elves. Not the shriveled pathetic things that so many families of wizard treated with disdain. Tall thin and wild looking elves, from beyond the Border in Faerie. Proud and beautiful.

"Struck dumb by it, I say," the first one, the male, responds back to his companion.

"Eh?" I grunt, before realizing that I had completely ignored the question in favor of ogling the two of them. Smooth Harry, real smooth. I recover as best I can. "Aye, words be failing me." I turn back to staring at the sky, though I keep my magic near the underneath. I've no way of knowing if their friendly, but no reason to assume otherwise at the moment. Still, caution is usually the best. Constant Vigilance! and all that.

"Why's that? Never seen a sky before?" the female asks, sounding mocking.

"Took me years to escape from my cave," I admit. "Didn't realize it would be so blue."

"Right." The male snorts at my lame comeback.

"Well, I've never seen an elf before either, but I thought staring at you all would be rude," I send back. "But really, it is such a nice shade, and that cloud over there looks so much like fish, would either of you be caring to join me?"

A brief silence answered my response. The male spoke up. "Not so much a fish. I'd lean more towards a lizard."

The female snorted. "Anyone with a brain would see it for what it is."

"And that is?" I ask, taking the penultimate drag on my cigarette.

"Toad."

"Toad?" I tilt my head a bit and look at the aforementioned cloud.

"Toad," the male said in agreement.

"Never much liked toads," I admit, before flicking my cigarette away from me. I sat up cross-legged and turned to face the two. Adjusting my satchel I ask, "So what can I be doing for the two of you?"

As they looked at me, I looked right back, and this time my view was a bit better. I was right in my estimation of gender. One male, one female. They're of similar size and features. Probably siblings. The females neck is a bit longer, and her hair shorter. Both their skin is dark, and though their bone structure is delicate and aristocratic, their skin is rough and pitted. I'd heard that some elves dye their features and hair to match human folk, but I doubt any of the proud race would scar themselves purposefully. I take in their features, and realize that these aren't elves. They're half elves.

"Got a bit of potential, this one," the male says to his companion, ignoring me.

"As a recruit or as a meal?" the female returns.

"For half of you I be thinking I could do as a mate," I break in. The female turns to me, and her eyes narrow, before I finish, "but he'll need to shave first."

The male grins. His teeth are sharp and feral. The female snorts, guttural, but surprisingly feminine sound. "He has a sharp tongue. Perhaps he's the lost heir of Elfland," she responds, ignoring my interruption.

"Okay, you talked me into it. You can be first in my heart," I smile at her. The male grins again as the female gives me a look.

"A sharp tongue indeed, Sis. I'm leaning towards recruit, though if you want the second or third option, I'll stand aside," he says to the female, newly identified as his sister. I grin in response, and wag my eyebrows at her. I honestly have no idea if I've really offended either of them, but the way they had been looking at me had led me to believe they were looking for something. I had decided to show a little character, and see if that had been what they were looking for. Seems I'm right.

"I'm tempted by one of those," she says, tilting her head down so she could peer out at me from beneath her lashes. She licked her lips in a way that could imply either mate or meal. "But since you seem so intent on it, he's yours." She kicked off the ground and gunned her bike up. The exhaust it left behind as she sped away smelled like wild flowers. I watched her drive away, before turning to the remaining elf.

"I don't be meaning to offend, guy," I say to him, "but your sister driving away there? Smoking hot."

"To lose your interest so fast? My heart will never mend," he shoots back easily. Good. I didn't want to seem weak and easy pickings if they were predators looking for new meat, but I didn't want to make an enemy if they were merely being playful. If he banters so easily, it looks like I've managed to keep from making enemies today.

Harry Potter, not getting in trouble for his inability to keep his mouth shut. Mark the day in gild and gold, it's a first.

I stand up, brushing my self off before beginning to walk in the direction that both the train and the girl had gone in. "Bordertown is this way, isn't it?" I ask him.

He kicks off the ground as well, but merely walks his bike besides me as I climb off the meadow I had landed in, and start walking down the highway that had shadowed tracks for most of the trip. "Walk this road long enough and you'll find your way there," he tells me as he keeps pace with me.

"Aye, but will I be making it before sundown, that's the question," I return.

"What you'll do when you get there is just as important," he says while pacing me on foot.

I dodge the implied question with one of my own. "Is gas as expensive here as it be in the World?" I nod at his bike.

The half elf grins at me, before leaning over and tapping what looks like a cigar box wrapped in duct tape and marked in neon pen. My eyebrow raises despite myself.

"Is that a spell box?" I ask, interested. It's the first time I've seen one. Spell boxes are one of the more famous little doohickeys from Border folklore out in the World. Designed to power pretty much anything from the ambient magic that soaks these lands, and particularly attached to the "spell wired" bikes of the roving gangs. I was expecting something a little more delicate or arcane, but I suppose not everything is what it seems out in Bordertown. It was one of the reasons I've come here. I focus my magic on it briefly and the construct seems to purr beneath my attention.

My companion dodges the question as easily as I ignored his earlier. "What brings you to our fine city?" he asks instead. I look at him for a moment, thinking of my answer. Most of the runaways come out here for the same reasons. To get away from something at home, to look for something magical that can't be found in the World, or for the just plain stupidity of teenage adolescents.

"The scenery," I tell him. "What be bringing you to this stretch of road?" I return in kind.

"The company," he flashes back just as quickly. We're both grinning at each other, the banter easy. I'm truly enjoying this first experience in this new place. The conversation is easy back and forth, just two strangers getting the feel for the other. No expectations, no admiration, no fear…

The half elf continues. "And now that you've succeeded in admiring the view, where are you heading next?"

"Bordertown, though I've not yet been getting around to planning beyond that," I admit.

"Need a ride there?" he asks.

"This part of your recruiting?" I ask, turning my head to give him my attention. He wasn't being too subtle, but he had caught my attention none the less.

"Aye. If you haven't been around to planning the next stage of your journey, then I would recommend you make a home, however brief, at Castle Pup," he finished with a flourish and a little bow.

"And what may this Castle Pup be being?" I probe cautiously. We had made it onto the road and were now tracking down it at an easy walking pace. A ride and a place to stay were tempting things to be thinking about, but I do know better than to jump in without a little background.

"Castle Pup is the home of the Strange Larvae. We're a mixed bunch: humans, elves and halfies. Though it might mean that the Pack and the True Bloods don't care much for us, they're much to busy with each other to hassle us."

"A tempting thought," I admit. The Pack was the predominant gang of pure humans, while the True Bloods were their elfish counterpart. Neither one has a reputation for tolerance, even back in the World. That isn't to say that Bordertown has a reputation of violence and bloodshed, but no matter where you go there will always be someone fighting about something.

"You have somewhere else? A mansion, perhaps, up on the Dragon Tooth? If so, perhaps you can be putting me up instead."

"Well, I talked to my agent about acquiring one, but after careful review, none of them were up to my incredibly high standards." I pause for a second before continuing. "Though it just might be likely that a castle might be more my style." The half elf grins at my response. "You be feeling the urge to be telling me a little more of these pupae?"

"We look after our own as best we can, though it's not the most luxurious of life styles. You bring in a little extra food when you can for everyone. Sometimes you'll be asked to cook or clean if you can't bring in the food. Beyond that, it's pretty much do your own thing."

"No secret handshakes or sinister motives," I ask sounding disappointed . The half elf snorted. "Doesn't sound like to bad a place," I ad, honestly. "I just might be taking you up on it." The half elf grinned, teeth flashing white and sharp for a moment. "But first, you got a name?"

"Called Mooner, after a habit of my youth," he tells me. "How about yourself?"

He stops, realizing that I already had. When he had told me his name, I had gone very still. He looks at me, cautious at my sudden action, though I just look at him with a serious face.

"Mooner, huh," I breathe. The name had called to mind another name I had known once in my youth. I shake my head quickly and catch up with him. He continues to look at me strangely. "Sorry, I had a friend once named Moony. After the thing in the sky. Be catching me by surprise is all."

Mooner nods slowly in response to my explanation. "With a name like that he must have been a devilishly handsome fellow, full of wit and wisdom."

I smile slightly at that. "Aye, though a great deal more modest I imagine." I pull my thoughts away from my old friend. "Well I guess I should be introducing myself in return, eh?" I extend my hand to Mooner. "I be called B.S.P." Mooner shook my hand.

"B.S.P? What's it stand for?"

"Exactly," I nod at him without answering.

"Well enough, BS," he says, and motions to the spot behind him on his bike. I climb on at his invitation. "Heading anywhere special?" he asks as he guns his engine and takes off.

"Anywhere special be the exact where I'm headed," I answered as we roared off towards the Town at the Border of Faerie.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter the Third.

Disclaimer: The characters and places in this work are not my own. They belong to the authors listed in the first chapter.

There's one thing I'll have to hand to Mooner. He sure knows how to drive. The trip from the stretch of road he found me on to the eventual destination was as much an adventure as anything I've experienced on the Border yet. The spell box that Mooner had wired into his bike, like all other spell boxes, fed off of the ambient and free flowing magic of NeverNever. NeverNever itself is the portion of the world soaked and affected by the magic that flows from the Border of Faerie. Since that magic flows and ebbs according to natural laws I haven't the faintest of hopes of comprehending, it is not a reliable thing. At portions of the trip his bike would gutter and die, and we'd coast along for a minute or two until eventually the magic of the environment flowed back in and the bike would roar to life and drag us onward. As time went by the dead spots came less and less as we got closer to Bordertown and the Border that it got it's name from.

My first glimpse of Bordertown is unimpressive. From a distance it looks very much like any other town in the World. But when we get closer that changes. There are plenty of well kept houses and fancy cars that my dear uncle Vernon would be perfectly comfortable with, but they were placed alongside decrepit and boarded up houses or wildly improbable vehicles that would drive Aunt Petunia wild. Amongst all this traffic Mooner drives in and out like a madman. He darts through three lanes of traffic, cut across curbs, race through lights, the works. It's mad. It's fast. It's the best thing since quidditch.

I laugh out loud with the joy of it.

Mooner glances back at me and answers my delight with his own feral grin. He cuts through a curb and pass an old woman pushing a wheelbarrow of fish. He reaches out and grabs one in passing. My own hand darts and with the reflexes of the seeker I am I manage to get two. He hands me back his and I shift to place them all. The fish had been taken from the Mad River, and it shows. They look like something out of a Lovecraft story, all beady eyes and tentacles. I don't care, as long as they get cooked first.

Never could stand sushi.

At last we pull up to an old building with a sign proclaiming 'Merchant's Exchange Building'. The blocks we have been driving through had been toughly eclectic. Some buildings were scarily decrepit, while others were well maintained. The people have the same trend. Some are dull and looked at their last leg, while others move with purpose. Whatever the case, their fashion senses are all varied and bright. I had been aiming to stand out, but even with all my eccentric hair and clothes, I blend in perfectly. It gives me a thrill of pleasure to know that I pulled it off right.

"Welcome to Castle Pup," Mooner tells me. He looks back after he had parked his bike, and sees his fish combined with my own two. He grins quick, and I return the favor, shifting the load to one hand and tossing it carelessly over my shoulder near my satchel.

"Quick hands, and a good welcoming gift," he tells me.

"My thanks, though I be hoping that someone here be a better chef then me," I say while indicating the exceptionally ugly catch of the day. The Castle Pup is a squat orange building, windows on the first floor boarded up and most on the second cracked. A wall ran along the front by the road, thick and brick, while the grass beyond was tall and wild. Sitting on the wall and watching the two of us was a small kid. The kid's hair was wild and silver and poofy, reminding me of a dandelion before it blows apart. A long shirt falling to knee length belted by a beaded belt with a great machete attached like a sword and the copious amounts of dirt keeps me from being able to discern the kids gender.

"Hey Florida," Mooner calls to the kid. Tossing Florida a misshapen candy bar he continues. "This is BS. He'll be with us for a while at least. No killing him, 'kay?"

Florida regards me with a cold expression. At least I think it is supposed to be cold. Honestly, I thought it a rather cute thing, all jutting lower lip and accompanying glower. In response I give a little grin and a raised hand in greeting. Apparently my response is acceptable to Florida, and the tiny sentinel's gaze turns from us as we head up the door and enter the building.

The inside is comparable to the outside when it came to upkeep. Litter is strewn about and the air smells of old decaying buildings. When alls said and done its about what I expected. A rat skitters across the hallway from us, down an intersection that Mooner ignores as I follow him. The smell of the fish across my shoulder mingles with the mildew and rot. All in all, not the most pleasant aromas, but I've had to put up with much worth. Loud music, danceable, came from behind one door, and a little ways down from it another door was open to what appeared to be some kind of nursery.

As we climb a wide staircase to the second floor I speak up. "Nice driving earlier."

"I have two settings, fast and faster," Mooner responds.

"Only two?" I ask. "What be happening to fastest?"

"I save that one for the ladies," he says in return with a quick grin .

"Well, I wouldn't be bragging about something like that myself," I tell him. "They must be a dissatisfied lot, 'less the recovery time is good enough."

He shoots me a glare over his shoulder and I give him an innocent grin in return. "Smart ass."

"It be my one redeeming quality," I admit. "But speaking of relations, be there anything specific I should be noting about my soon to be housemates?"

"Never call an elf a fairy, and never call a fairy an elf. Beyond that, you'll have to negotiate the inter-personals on your own." I nod at that. He continues after a second, "Though I think you might have caught my sisters eye."

"And is that good news or bad news?"

"Depends on whether she's hungry or horny." I snort at that.

We reached the top of the stairs and Mooner tapped a large jar with what appeared to be a pig fetus in it. "Hello Festus." It might have been my own imagination, but I could have sworn the fetus nodded back.

Weird.

We continue down the hallway, passing by a few fellows having a lay about in the hallway. A couple of elves and a larger human woman. Mooner ignores them, and they really aren't doing anything interesting enough to keep my attention. Waiting for us at the end of the hallway is a door with another kid next to it. A round looking sort, he steps aside for us while speaking up.

"Mooner! Good hunting in NeverNever?"

Mooner just grunts as he moves past. I wave my hand at the kid while I follow. "I be the catch of the day," I tell him. He smiles at me while I pass.

Mooner opens the door at the hallway and I follow him into what appears to be some kind of twisted mix between a hallucinogenic and a children's story.

"Now this be something you don't be seeing every day," I say to him and he nods in agreement as we take in the surroundings.

Now, this will take a moment to describe. Picture a fair size room, comfortably (albeit eclectically) furnished. Plenty of people whom, if you have been paying attention to my earlier descriptions of the residents of Bordertown, would take long enough to describe individually. And picture, amidst this slightly askew normality, what appears to be two dozen little men made of gingerbread running around in an absolute dervish of madness. Icing coats, candy buttons, raisin eyes, the works. And all awhile screaming at the top of their little lungs "Run, Run as fast as you can, you can't catch me. I'm the gingerbread man!"

The aforementioned residents of this room are all about trying their best to catch the animated snack foods. I catch sight of one cat running after two little men. Right before they hit a wall, they each swerve in a different direction and the cat hit's the wall with a rather angry yowl. Chasing another one is a little toddler tumbling about as best his little legs can carry him, crumbs adorning his face from earlier success.

"On a scale of one to ten, this probably be deserving a four point three," I mutter to myself. Mooner stomps down in front of him, and one of the pastry pranksters falls back. It lays perfectly still for a moment, but when Mooner reaches for it, it scuttles away quickly shouting it's trademark. Laying against a wall is a elf with rainbow dreadlocks, laughing hysterically at the mayhem. I turn to Mooner. "Would you mind terribly if I stop this?"

"Not at all, oh Lost Heir," another voice says from my side. I glance over and see Mooner's twin reaching under a chair. Clutched in her left hand are two of the little ginger fellows. When she straightens her right hand holds a third. "Please, fix it with a snap of your fingers." She scoffs at me, one hand against her hip and her other dangling at her side, filled with struggling cookies.

I meet her eyes with mine, smile at her obvious sarcasm, raise my hand, and snap my fingers.

The effect is instantaneous. In an instant every last one of the delicacy delinquents stiffens and falls to the ground. Startled shouts as pursuers overshoot their pursued raise into the air, and for a second even more mayhem reins. Mooner's twin eyes widen in a moment of shock, and Mooner turns to level an unreadable glance at me as well.

Still smiling I ask, "Be that to your liking, Love?"

The female halfie narrows her eyes at me. "I thought you said that you were a new addition to Bordertown?" she asked.

"Aye, that I be," I tell her with a nod. I had thought about this before coming out here. It would be easy enough to disappear completely out here, and with even humans being able to use magic, being a wizard out here isn't to likely to stick out. Sure, a wizard from the World is a hell of a lot different than a wizard from the Borders, but ever since the Statutes of Secrecy fell, nearly a year ago, it's not an inconceivable thing to find a World Wizard out here at the Borders.

The room around us had slowed down, what with the source of all the pandemonium suddenly regaining it's inanimate nature mid chase on many accounts. Not many seem to care the why of the sudden ease that regaining the ginger delinquents had, but a few nearby had managed to overhear the conversation that had proceeded and continued after my displayed. The rainbow dreaded elf that had been laughing against the wall seemed sad at the loss of his entertainment. A girl with purple hair and an overbite moved to the elf, talking softly, while a red haired bloke and a tall elf came in the direction of me and the twins.

"I didn't ask him to do this, but no," the red haired bloke says to the elf while they were approaching. The human spoke like a proper brit, and sounded apologetic. "I was just trying to make something good for the kids when he started giggling and the next thing I know…"

Ginger there cut himself off when they got closed to us. "Thanks there, mate," he says to me.

"Anything for someone who not be butchering the queen's proper English," I grin at him in return. Mooner and his sister both regard me in a calculating fashion. Their elvish features added to the weight of their gaze, and seem to transform them into something decidedly alien and cold. I let their regard flow of me without giving any specific reaction to it. The other elf that had approached our group with the redhead is tall and has a topknot for a hairstyle. He seems a little out of place, as though used to being more formal and having to constantly tone himself down to the level of grace of those around him. Probably as fresh from elf lands as I am from the World. Ginger continues talking to me, seemingly unaware of the budding tension between me and my less recent acquaintances.

"I'll agree to that," Ginger grins at me, and his accent thickens. "Bloody tired of these yanks ruining a proper sentence. That was some right proper spell work. Where did the twins dig up a mage like you, and what did they promise to get you to come?"

"Found me twixt World and Border, they did, and place to rest me weary bones they be promising," I answer, and my gaze meets theirs for a moment. I make no threat of it, merely a look to see if I'm still welcome.

The new elf speaks up. "Surely someone with talent like your own must have a place more regal than our humble abode," he asks. His voice pattern is formal, but easy with the grace of unconscious courtesy. I note it likely that this elf was no common runaway. It seems like the two of us have more and more in common, huh?

"A trick like that takes a bit of skill," Mooner adds. "Maybe I should have been thinking a 'welcome back' rather than the 'scenic first view' I had in mind." His voice is diffident, the accusation beneath subtle and lacking hostility. His twin keeps her silence, but with a much colder expression.

Ginger snorts, missing the tension in the air, even as the topknot elf seems be well aware of it. "A newbie to the Border that can unravel a couple dozen animated gingerbread men in a second? Yeah right. The only way that could happen is if you were a…" With this Ginger trails off with wide eyes and gaping jaw. His sudden gape has all four of us looking at him queerly. "Great gods of bread and breakfast," he finally finishes, still agape. I blink at that. Catchy phrase. "Holy crap-on-a-stick. You're a World Wizard?" His sentence is half question half accusation.

"Aye. Guilty as being charged." I give a half bow in return to the statement. The elf stands a little straighter and eyes me a little more intensely. The two half elves resume their study of me, though now there's more questions than accusations in it. "They be calling me B.S.P." I introduce myself.

The redhead still looks a little struck by the awesomeness of my presence, so the elf introduces himself first. "Strider," he says and calmly offers me a hand. I shake it easily. About this time a few others begin migrating in our direction.

An oriental halfie speaks up, having caught the tail end of our conversation. "World Wizard?" she asks, before offering her own hand accompanied with introduction. "Sai."

This snaps the redhead out of his seemingly shocked funk. "World Wizard," he confirms, and than seems to properly get a hold of himself. "I'm Durward," he says and I shake his hand as well. "It was all over the news in the World before I came out here. People thought that magic was just old stories and stuff until the Border popped out of nowhere. That shook things up enough so that when a decade or two later a bunch a people announce that not all magic was around here. Seems there was a whole bunch of people that could do magic just like around here living in the World proper for centuries. They just did a better job of keeping it mum. Anyway, like a couple years ago they decided to do this big announce themselves to the world thing. It was like, now that the world was so used to magic because of the Border that they were going to come out and let the rest of the World know about them."

The rest of the group are paying close attention to Ginger's story. Seems like the fist time they heard it. Throughout the telling the chap kept getting more and more exited, and by the end of it he was even waving his arms around to punctuate. The elf, Strider, seems to find the story even more interesting than the rest, his eyes unwavering and unblinking throughout it. The oriental halfie just seems to think it interesting and nothing else. Mooner and his twin sister, who I still haven't received a proper introduction to, are both still trying to pull the incomprehensible act, but are slipping up.

"Bullocks," I snort, and the group is looking at me like they forgot I was here entirely. Listening to the story Durward was telling, and hearing the awe in his voice had brought a bitter smile to my lips, and it's presence seems to set the others on edge. "Aye, that be the official story. But in the honesty of all, I should be telling you that it not being a matter of rest of the world being ready, and more a matter of the wizards not be having much of a choice." Strider's eyebrow raises, and Durward blinks at my admission, so I continue. "The hiding wasn't a matter of the rest of the world not being ready, and more a matter of the wizards being to scared of what the non-wizards might be doing if the non-wizards be knowing anything about the wizards. As for the using of magic, it strictly being a matter of proper genetics it was. Out here on the Border, anyone being with balls and brains can learn to be using proper spell work. World Wizards were just being the ones with the right genes to be using magic anywhere at all."

Durward gaped at me while Strider raised an eyebrow at me in a wordless acknowledgment of curiosity. Mooner and his sister, whose name I still haven't gotten, both have their attention on me as well, though the previous intensity is now lacking.

"So why did the World Wizards come out in the open?" Durward stutters.

"By the time we be coming out, there wasn't being much of a choice." I smile, but in truth it's more of a grimace. The other's seem set on edge by it, and I don't blame them. Well, I knew there would be questions. Let's see how this turns out. If worse comes to worse, there are always other places to disappear to. "So," I continue, and now my smile is less painful. "Mind if I be stayin' here for a night or two?"

Stick around for another soon-to-be-coming (whenever I get the time to write it) episode of Somewhere. Will Harry be welcome in the Castle of the Strange Pupae? Will he be able to find a life worth living in these strange new lands? Will he ever get the hot half elf's name? These questions and more, answered soon!

Also. A shout out to Black Dragon6 in this chapter. "Gods of bread and breakfeast". It gets me every time.


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